


Ornaments

by dandyholmes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Decorating the Tree, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:31:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8950447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandyholmes/pseuds/dandyholmes
Summary: Snow falls outside of Baker Street and Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are decorating their Christmas tree at the absolute last minute.
Secret Santa gift for Mari and Susana!!





	

Snow hit the window panes of 221B on a diagonal and John smiled at the stark contrast between the world outside and the warmth of home. It was the evening of December 24, he and Sherlock were putting the last ornaments on the tree, all was calm. He’s been back in Baker Street for about 6 months now, and things from years past are nothing but memories.

There was a sense of incompleteness about life back home, even still, though. Neither of them had spoken of anything remotely “intense” or “emotional” whatsoever after John left his assassin wife. John couldn’t tell if this was because it was too painful or too scary, or both. They’ve become more inclined to incidental touching; just pats on the shoulder or being closer or the occasional ruffling of hair. It was nice, it felt natural. But it was just that. Probably wouldn’t ever turn into anything more, it’s been so long and—

“John you can’t put three ornaments on one branch, they’ll fall off.”

“Oh,” John was slammed back into reality for a moment to notice that he had, in fact, put the last three ornaments on the same small branch of the tree, and the last one was about to fall off. He took the extra two off and attempted to find other branches. 

“Here, let me do it,” he grabbed the ornaments from John’s hand and placed them accordingly. John noticed how close Sherlock was to him, mere inches from touching. “We just have to put the star on top.”

Sherlock grabbed the star from the box, knowing he was tall enough, and reached to put it atop their tree. As he was doing so, his back grazed John’s arm briefly, and then he looked to admire their work. The lights were white (Sherlock said they complemented the room best, despite Mrs. H wishing they would put multi-colored ones on there), and the ornaments were a mix of elegant and science-related ones from Sherlock as well as Mrs. Hudson’s assortment of leftover ones to fill in the empty space. 

“I think it looks nice,” John commented after a moment.

“Yes, yes I think it does.”

John noticed after a minute that his right shoulder was touching Sherlock’s left, and neither of them had made any effort to move. They weren’t looking at each other, thank god, but once John realized there was a strange stillness but yet a comfort in it. This was the longest they’d been touching in, maybe ever, and Sherlock wasn’t showing signs of moving. John finally let himself breathe.

Still unmoving, John wondered if he should do… _something?_ _Do I move away awkwardly, do I put my arm around him, do I—what does he want me to do? Anything? What if he moves? What if this is the best shot I have. Why else has he been… like this lately? He’s decorating the tree and giving people gifts and_ ** _enjoying_** _Christmas. What if I—Fuck it._

John carefully wrapped his arm around Sherlock’s waist and he felt his flatmate _(friend? partner? something?)_ stiffen at the touch. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

After a second, though, Sherlock let out a breath and leaned into it a bit. John took that as a sign of acceptance and rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder, to which the taller man responded by resting his head on John’s. _This has to be it, doesn’t it? Should I just. Ok._  

“I love you,” John blurted out, and Sherlock retracts, stepping away a bit. _Did I do it wrong? Oh god does he think I’m an idiot oh god this was a mistake oh GOD—_

A long moment passed, both of them avoiding looking at each other, and then, “Y-you mean.”

John closes his eyes—too much—for a second and nods, “I-I love you, Sherlock.”

“As… friends? Right?” he replied slowly. John’s chest felt heavy. He couldn’t tell if Sherlock was offended or just confused.

“No. No, as, erm, as more than… that.”

He saw Sherlock begin to tremor slightly and look back up at him, “How long?” He took a step forward on his words. 

_Since I loved you? God, it’s been…_ How long had John Watson been in love with Sherlock Holmes?

“Always. Since… always.”

 Sherlock exhaled a shaky breath and looked down again, “Why?”

_Why? Does he know who he is?_ How this man could even think of such a question boggled his mind. John stepped forward, they were unbearably close, but not looking at each other. John touched his forearm, Sherlock did not pull away.

“How could I not?”

“B-but, er, but what about. You always. We’re not,” John knew what he was trying to say despite his inability to let it out.

“I’ve been a complete. Fool.”

 Sherlock looked down at him to meet John’s eyes. Snow hit the windows outside. London was quiet. The entire world seemed to still whenever their eyes met, as if they were the only two people to exist.

John became a bit more daring and brought his hand to Sherlock’s face. _God, he’s beautiful in this light,_ he thought. He pulled Sherlock towards him a bit more, pressing their foreheads together, and Sherlock closed his eyes. It would take the slightest movement for them to kiss.

“Do you love me too?”

Sherlock’s eyes opened again at the question, “Do you really not know?” his voice was soft, and his arms wrapped around John’s waist in response.

John smiled and pulled Sherlock down to bring their lips together and suddenly nothing else in the world existed. John Hamish Watson was kissing William Sherlock Scott Holmes for the first time on Christmas Eve in their home together, and nothing else mattered.

The two of us against the world, indeed.

 

 


End file.
